


Playin Those Mind Games

by EbethBeatlebub



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: 1970s, Exes, I tweaked the timeline to make it work, Loosely based off true events, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Pining, Reconciliation, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:20:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbethBeatlebub/pseuds/EbethBeatlebub
Summary: John and George were not in the same country, the same page, or even on the same planet. John knew it was all his own fault that they were drifted so apart; he's already accepted that he was in the wrong. Why then was George punishing him with these dreams? Why did he haunt his every thought?
Relationships: George Harrison/John Lennon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Playin Those Mind Games

It was like the millionth time in a row now that he'd had that dream. Well, maybe it wasn't exactly a MILLION. Also, he'd not been having this dream consecutively  _ every _ night, nor was it the same dream, but they were frequent and similar. John wiped his face clean with a dead expression on, then stared at himself in the mirror. What was going on?

_ 'I don't want this' _ he thought to himself.  _ 'Why won't you leave me alone?' _

His reflection looked even sicker and thinner than he usually did, and it was horrible. He nearly couldn't force himself to look away but at last he pulled himself out of the trance. He turned around and back to his room, not sure if he could be bothered getting dressed. 

Then, as he opened the door he spied a messy curled up lump in the bed. Yoko must have come back to sleep from wherever she'd been. Weird since she was sleeping in a different room lately, but whatever. Maybe if he took advantage of the situation he'd manage to dream about something else for once. 

He climbed into bed again, awkwardly reaching out to stir the head of dark wavy hair beside him. Then she turned over and John was paralysed;  _ it wasn't Yoko.  _

There with his piercing eyes, and dark heavy brow, George sneered at him. He uncurled himself and crawled over to him. The movement of the sheets briefly revealed his fully naked body which soon was pinning him down, trapping him on the mattress. George placed a hand directly onto John's throat and began to squeeze as he leaned in close to whisper in a cold voice;

_ "You never meant anything to me," _

***

**_"AAAAAAHHHHH!"_ **

John jolted upright in his bed, kicking and flailing. Fuck SAKES what the HELL was that? He looked to the side of him... Empty bed. No one there at all. 

"I'm going insane," he muttered, wiping his face with a hand. He couldn't breathe well and his heart was too heavy for him to relax into sleep again. Getting up was the only option. Bugger wearing any clothes, he'd just waltz out into the cold in his underwear. Probably needed the cold. Actually,  _ bugger walking around _ , he just walked right on into the shower and turned the cold faucet on, underwear and all.

... All he could think of is the words George had said. Not just from the dream he'd just had either; it wasn't the first time George had spoken to him in these.

_ 'You never meant anything to me' _

_ 'I don't need you anymore' _

_ 'You're useless' _

_ 'You don't deserve me in your life' _

All uttered before or after some kind of inexplicable sexual act. What did it mean? Who fucking knew!!! John's body was covered in goosebumps; from the cold or the continual intrusive thoughts he didn't know. He turned off the faucet and slumped to sit down on the floor of the shower, staring at the drain until all the water had mostly drained.

***

"What is this?" Yoko asked, confused but...  _ not opposed _ to the strange music her husband was playing. She looked up to see John was not prepared to give an answer, which on the one hand she could have expected. On the other hand, it annoyed her. Very well then, if he wasn't going to deem her with an answer about the music then she wasn't going to have it playing at all. 

She turned off the cassette player, and John suddenly was broken out of his trance. After a few seconds of confusion she immediately regretted this path of pettiness because when he caught her eye there was  _ definitely _ red behind them. She stood her ground; 

"I asked you a question," she said calmly, "all I wanted was an answer,"

No response.

"What are you thinking about?" she tried. 

John was.... well it looked like he was damn near ready to flip the table, but he was barely containing it. Sean was at the table too, she supposed and John had been trying to ease up on the bad-dad shtick. She turned it back on, the cassette player, and sat down to eat without another word.

John meanwhile noticed that he had left his cornflakes to become a curdled heap of mush. He'd been so zoned out in his daydreaming that he'd lost his appetite and his awareness apparently. Getting up to toss it down the sink, he tried desperately to get back into the zone...

As if he was gonna tell Yoko what he was thinking about. She'd probably not understand, no definitely wouldn't. Maybe think he was crazy, send him off to some oddball alternative therapy that didn't work. How could he tell her that he was trying to pretend...

_ God _ . He couldn't even tell  _ himself _ what he was thinking. It was so embarrassing. He turned off the music himself this time. He'd never see George again. He'd never be in the same room, or the same city or bloody planet as him. George was on another level far higher up than him and it was all his own fault that they were never on the same one to begin with.

He caressed the tape as he took it out. It was one of a few ( _ hundred _ ) that he'd gone and bought over the course of the year... he hoped that maybe someday he wouldn't have to pretend. But that was just nonsense.

***

No this couldn't be. It was impossible. John was trembling as he held the letter in his hands, one he hadn't even opened yet. He knew that writing well enough. He didn't know what to do, and since all three of his immediate urges were bloody stupid,  _ (scream, rip it up, jump out window) _ he was immobilised. 

What could he possibly want? That's what was killing John the most. He meant nothing to him anyway, didn't he?  _ DIDN'T HE? _

He opened the envelope, carefully, and pulled out the folded letter, terrified of what may happen. He took a deep breath and looked at it... Good LORD it was actually quite a long letter! In his heart he had a fear of a lengthy slagging off or a scolding, so he skimmed first...

The bits that stuck out to him the most left him speechless, weak, embarrassed, devastated, but most of all;

_ "John, it's been long enough and life is too short for fighting" _

_ "I miss you"  _

_ "If we don't take care of our bond it will die, and I feel like a part of us will die too"  _

_ "Let's try again"  _

_ "I want you in my life"  _

_ "You mean so much to me," _

... He felt happy?

He didn't know how he was going to respond to the letter. He wanted to, no he NEEDED to! George wanted him again? He really did...

He laughed at himself, sitting on the floor of his room, getting all worked up all this time. And for what?  _ Nothing _ ! The bloody bastard had been haunting his dreams and controlling his mind, but that wasn't even really George was it? It was him, John, who was thinking all those crazy pitiful things.

He wiped his eyes and curled his legs up, knees to his chest. He'd been a fool, absorbed in his own head again. It really was all in the mind, wasn't it, George?

He laughed again. Life is definitely too short for this nonsense. As a matter of fact, John felt like he'd lost multiple years of his life just from all the fretting and wallowing, but then reading this one simple letter he'd got the wake up call and all those years came rushing back.

"I can't write," he said finally, to no one in particular. He wouldn't be able to; he'd never get the words out. He got up and then found the phone, checking first to see if anyone was home lest  _ someone  _ be listening. Thankfully George had the forethought to leave a number in the letter, just in case. He knew him so well even after all this time apart. 

"..." he waited for someone, even a machine to pick up the phone...

NO! he couldn't do it. He hung up before anything could happen. Not today.

***

Several days, about a _ month _ precisely to John's dismay, had passed. He'd attempted to call George so many times but kept hanging up. He had begun to fear that he had done it so many times now that if he finally DID stay on the line, George would deliberately not pick up. Perhaps that was utterly ridiculous though.

The nightmares which had subsided a BIT were different now; instead of the terrifying versions he'd been having before, it was George asking him why he doesn't want him anymore. He honestly couldn't tell if that was worse or not than the more violent ones.

What was rather...  _ unhelpful _ actually, was what happened when he was awake though. The thought of George missing him, wanting him, thinking about him... It made him feel so soft, getting giddy like a little girl over it. He'd sometimes lie awake, thinking back to times before the two of them had gone so sour on one another. Back to when he and George first... 

Well anyway, occasionally ( _ most of the time actually _ ) he'd warp these memories into daydreams, trying to think up ways it could have or should have happened.

But of course, no amount of dreaming and wishing was going to make the sideways pillow in his arms magically transform into a man. No amount of vivid visions behind closed eyes as he touched himself, or spoke to himself could ever replace the real thing. He decided that he'd try one more time. One more call.

He grabbed the phone and punched in the number, knowing it off by heart now. It took a second for the line to go through, but to John's sheer  _ horror _ , the phone didn't even get a chance to ring this time. George must have been sitting by the phone this time or something because the very first thing he said was;

_ "You're like a fly, you know that? Hard to catch but always buzzing around me," _

John nearly choked and hung up, but instead he remained frozen. Then, there was a shifting on the other side of the phone line like he was sitting down.

_ "... John?" _ the voice asked after continued silence. There was a sort of vulnerability to it, in contrast to the cockiness of his opening line. It was  _ hopeful _ .

"I want you here with me," John finally blurted out, nearly ready to cry again. Then realising how that sounded, he amended it by quickly adding; "I want to see you again I mean, I uh, got your letter," 

A few seconds passed before a familiar, incredulous laugh came from the other side.

_ "I'm always with you, but I know what you mean," _ he said, _ "I want that too _ ,"

They devolved into conversation, and honestly John didn't care how high they racked up the bill. This was the first time in so long that he'd felt anything this strongly, or anything  _ positive _ for that matter. They nattered away about this and that and then by the time they were done, George literally had to get off the phone because it was morning and he had to go start working; something about his garden or whatever.

John hadn't realised the time either. Thankfully no one seemed to be home? He didn't want anyone knowing about this. It was sacred to him. That night he played those hokey little Indian cassettes to himself on the headphones. He couldn't wait to see him again.

***

The two of them, George and John, had the run of the place, minus Sean who was busy doing baby things as babies do. George was playing around with him as John ran about trying to get dinner organised.

John was just trying to keep his cool. He'd been quite literally daydreaming about this on and off for so long that the real thing was spooky to him. George seemed to be picking up on it.

"John, you want any help in there?" he asked, Sean having fallen asleep.

John peeked nervously over his shoulder. God he needed more than help in the kitchen.

"If you like," he said instead of letting himself think too hard.  _ Come on, come on, just push through it! _ He told himself. 

George stepped into the kitchen and sought out something to do. John had gone out of his way to look up vegetarian shit to make him and was currently struggling with a curry of some kind and in the oven were some gozlemes. 

"You're a certified little homemaker nowadays aren't you?" George teased him a little, noting how John's entire arms and body were covered in flour, water, and random splotches of other stuff.

John snorted, "Rich coming from you. All you talk about over the phone is that bloody garden," he said, but with good humour. There was a smirk on his face as he added, "I was amazed when you showed up you didn't look like an overgrown garden gnome,"

George laughed a little, "You'd like that wouldn't you? Maybe I can grow me beard out again," he said.

John added, not even aware of the ease overcoming him, "It always did look better on you than me,"

"Serves you right for bein' ginger," George joked, as he literally was peeling some ginger up.

John tossed him a glance over the top of his glasses like a little warning.

"You're in MY house Harrison," he joked in a deadpan voice. The younger man laughed it off.

George scoffed jokingly, "With all that racket you've got playing I'm amazed it isn't MY bloody house," he commented. He had been SO confused but delighted to see that John had apparently finally warmed up to the Indian music he loved so much... 

Although, earlier as George looked around he had noticed that this place really didn't look like John's at all. Nothing in there felt like him... Or maybe he was wrong and this was just who he was now. George needed to stop hanging on to outdated images in his head of other people, like he'd been so annoyed at Paul for doing to him. Had he any idea how worked up John was about just exactly that sort of thing he'd probably have smacked him in the face. Lovingly of course...

"I'm happy to see you happy, you know," he said instead of speaking up about any other concerns. There would be time for that. Right now he was having fun. Gods he had missed John so much.

John shrugged, "Being un-famous for while will do that for you," he brushed it off. Truly he was not happy. Well, right now he was because George was here anyway.

George sighed, "I wish that could be me," 

John glanced back at him, "Hmm?"

"Un-famous. I wish that could be me right now," he said, "Some days i want to dig a hole in the ground and live there. I don't feel like I belong on this planet,"

John couldn't help but crack a little smile, "Well maybe that's just your past life talking, or whatever. Or your future one. Maybe next time around you won't be famous... You'll be a toad in the mud,"

George laughed, "Oh, John love don't get me hopes up like that," he beamed at him. John's heart hurt a little to see that George had fixed his teeth up. He never realised how fond of those crooked fangs he'd been.

"John?" George asked softly, stopping mid chop of the ginger in his hands.

John snapped out of it, moving his eyes from George's lips to his eyes. He felt a cold chill as the younger man seemed to analyse him.

George's earlier suspicions were creeping back up. He supposed he'd have to ask him sooner rather than later after all. If he didn't, he'd probably dramatise it in his head.

"Are you happy?" he asked him, fully serious, but without any pressure for an answer.

John held onto the edge of the counter and stared at him, his eyes stinging with tears.

"..... I'd rather be a toad in the mud... To be honest," he choked out.

"John," George put down what he was doing and immediately stepped over, drawing him into a tight embrace. 

John personally felt like the contact was all too much at once, his whole body on fire, his tears no longer dammed up. He held him back anyway, and wept as much as he needed. The stuff in the oven or the stove or whatever would be fine, and even if not it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but THIS right here.

It really had been too long. Hugging George felt so much better in real life, and right now it felt better than any other time they'd hugged. It brought to mind so many questions about what other things they used to do that would feel better now. Things they had taken for granted before, and things they were now mature enough to appreciate.

George rubbed his back as he slowly eased to a calmer state again. He didn't let go though.

"George," John whispered into his hair, turning to bury his nose in that silly permed mop.

George squeezed him and gently tilted his head into him.

"It's okay, you don't need to say anything yet," he said, "I'm here for you til then... I'm here for you always,"

John sadly laughed, "You say that but I'm not like you. When you go away it's really like you're gone... I know you're meant to be with me always but I need to see you," he blubbered.

George's heart leapt, beating harder against his ribcage. He didn't know if he was expecting quite that, but it made him feel so wonderful.

"Hey," he said, pulling away to look John in the eye. They were nose to nose nearly and John looked like it was take everything in him to stop himself from leaning in forward for a kiss.

"That's what i meant," George began, "when i said that we need to take care of our bond. We can't just go for years without communicating. We may not be able to come together like this all the time... But we weren't making any effort to call or write let alone visit. All because of a stupid fight..."

John's face screwed up as he began to cry again, "It was my fault... I did this to us," he said, but was cut off.

"No," George firmly stated, "we did this together. There's a whole lot of shit we've got to not do anymore just as much as we should be doing"

He ran a hand through John's hair, getting it out of his face.

"I'd wipe yer eyes but me hands all gingery..." he admitted, casually all of a sudden. John snorted at that and bonked his forehead against George's, gently, and rested it there.

George smiled at him, running his hand over John's hair again and again.

"I love you," John whispered to him, meekly.

George couldn't stifle a little gasp. He had always felt like that was the case, (the fact that they'd spent nearly three years at some point in some sort of casual relationship could have been a big clue in honestly), but John had never said so aloud.

"Johnny," he breathed, hesitating between kissing him or simply hugging him longer.

A sudden HORRIBLE beeping sound caused them to leap apart from one another, John scrambling to the oven to turn it off, and George rushing around to find the smoke alarm to turn it off.

Windows opened, baby awake and screaming, and dinner more or less ruined, it wasn't exactly a picture perfect evening anymore, but something very important had happened nonetheless.

***

It was the day George had to fly back. John was reluctant to let him go, holding him desperately close as he stood by the front door.

"I'll come back," George said, "I promise...I'll pay for YOU to come see ME,"

John sniffed and shook his head, "I want to come with you if you have to go," he said. It was ridiculous but it was true.

George smiled sadly and snuck in a kiss. John hungrily returned it, the taste of his tears mingling around between their tongues. George honestly had the room to house him. Now that Patti and he were divorced he was living more or less alone, too. But he couldn't take him, not now anyway.

"You have a family here, I can't take you away from them," he said.

John scoffed, "I hate her...i don't know want to be here anymore,"

George was firm though, "Not her, John. Your son... Look I want you in my home too, but I'm not going to take a father away from a child. Yoko and you did that once already, so you KNOW you have to stay,"

John was nearly about to get angry at him. God damn it all, he was right and John hated it.

"It's not fair," he muttered, closing his eyes.

"Nothing in life is. But it's not forever," George responded, carefully.

John opened his eyes again, deeply staring into George's.

"One day he's going to be old enough to understand you leaving. One day he won't need you as much as he does right now. You just have to remember that," George explained. He kissed John again, a gentler one this time.

"I'll be thinking of you the whole time," John said. He was too tired and sad to fight back now. George was content with that response.

"Good. Me too, but about you," he replied, kissing his nose, "and don't you dare stop calling me, baby," he added, smiling softly.

John tried not to smile back, but it couldn't be helped. After another half an hour of trapping him there, John finally let George go or he'd miss the flight.

"I'll be waiting for you," George said. It wasn't something that he could have promised to anyone else, really. He was known for being untrue but really that's because he'd never been true to begin with. John was probably the only one who he really wanted...

"You're a bloody schoolbird, sayin crap like that," John dryly teased him. George chuckled, flipping him off from the car window.

John gave him two  _ 'stuff you' _ signs in return, chuckling too.

"Hey.... But before I go," George said, leaning out the car window. John leaned down to hear him.

"... I love you too," he said with a softer smile. John beamed back at him.

As the car pulled away, John watched it go til it turned a corner and was out of sight. 

**Author's Note:**

> To quote from an online source:  
> "The exact date of the last meeting between George Harrison and John Lennon is unknown, but Harrison said in a 1990 interview that it was two years before Lennon was killed. "I was in New York at his house at the Dakota," Harrison recalled. "He was nice. He was just sort of running around the house making dinner."  
> Harrison was surprised to discover Lennon had hundreds of cassettes of Indian music, given his former bandmate's attitude when Harrison introduced those exotic sounds into the studio during the Beatles era. "He grew into it," Harrison added."  
> In this universe, I based the story in 1977 not long after George's divorce. That way it's possible that they could indeed get together again without upsetting Olivia ^^;.  
> Anyway I hope you liked it!


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